The Black Parade
by ghostofanother
Summary: Today was a special day, but Dean couldn't be bothered with that.
1. when I was a young boy

**Title:** The Black Parade  
**Rating:** M (for mature themes and violence)  
**Pairing:** not sure at this point...hmm, let me think...  
**Disclaimer: **You all know that I don't own Dean or Sam or _Supernatural_ itself, or the lovely actors involved. If I did, believe me, I'd be procliaming it from mountain tops...literally, I live in Colorado! Also, the title comes from the My Chemical Romance album of the same name. So thanks to all that I'm _borrowing_ from!  
**Summary:** _Today was a special day, but Dean couldn't be bothered with that. It was a secret to celebrate this day with his father. Dad thought that his little brother, Sammy, was too young to know what made it special, and besides, he wouldn't remember why. Dean could remember._  
**A/N:** When ideas hit me, it's like a shot, and this was no different. If you haven't already, go check out the video for the song "Welcome to the Black Parade"...it's amazing, and tells a story in and of itself. This story was inspired on a late night/early morning 'net surfing session, which inclucded watching said video and listening to the song on repeat! Also, I've only heard of the Witch Walk from a friend from Massachusetts and don't know much about it, so I'm kind of making it up as I go. If anyone has any information, let me know, because I only see her when I go to work on weekends, and I hope to be well into this story by the weekend!

**The Black Parade******

_Prologue -- when I was a young boy...___

Today was a special day, but Dean couldn't be bothered with that. It was a secret to celebrate this day with his father. Dad thought that his little brother, Sammy, was too young to know what made it special, and besides, he wouldn't remember why. Dean could remember.

John Winchester had packed his oldest son in the car even before the sun began to lighten the sky at the edge of the horizon. Sammy was staying with Pastor Jim, and John knew he'd be safer there. Today was about Mary. Sam didn't remember Mary, and John knew that trying to explain what had happened those years ago would be too difficult with a three year old. Maybe when he was older. No, when he _was_ older. There was no way around that.

So here they were, the sun just barely up, on the long road to their desired destination.

Dean, at eight years old, didn't understand why his father chose a different spot every year. In his young mind, it would have made more sense to go back to Kansas for an occasion such as this, but knew better than to speak up. Dad was always right. So Dean didn't ask, and didn't make any smart remarks. Not that, at that age, he knew what classified as a smart remark.

Massachusetts seems far away, but John promises his young son that it's not that bad a trip. Dean nods, yawning again and curling up underneath the blanket he's had all his life. His small, curled frame rests in the passenger seat, a pillow propped against the arm rest of the door, where Dean rests his head. 

Once they arrive, Dean doesn't know what to think. He thought this day was going to be about his mother. Not mourning her death, but celebrating her life. Now, he's getting another lecture from his dad.

"They're scum, Dean. Pure scum of the earth. Getting involved in goings on that they can't even comprehend." John's voice is quiet, conspiratorial, and Dean knows why. He sees the column of people walking down the street, invisible inside their black robes and behind their poles and staffs. He sees also the crowd of people watching from the sidewalks lining the streets. 

The town echoes silence, secret and dark. Dean can feel the cold press in around him, and he's afraid. But he'd never tell Dad that. John is here to investigate, to research, nothing more. This day isn't about Mary, and it sure isn't about the relationship between father and son. At least not to the casual observer.


	2. one day I'll leave you

_Chapter One -- one day I'll leave you...___

Dean couldn't believe he was gone. It was so final, so...neverending. The fight wasn't over and he knew it. The problem was figuring out where to go from here. He'd been taking orders his entire life, and now there was no one there to give them. 

Sammy was a mess, but Dean didn't think it first on his list of priorities. His little brother was old enough to take care of himself now. Dean needed to figure out how in the world they were going to continue this thing. And it wasn't going to be easy.

Brothers, they sat across from one another at yet another diner booth, silence filling the gap that the table tried to, but failed at. Neither of them had anything to say...not that the words were there if they felt communication could get them through this. Everything had changed now, and Dean didn't think it was for the better.

He fumbled with the buckles to his father's worn journal before finally opening it. He wondered if there'd been any cryptic messages left for them like times before. That would at least give them something to hope for. Something to help them move on. 

He gently touched the pages, not wanting to make too much noise or ruin anything. They had to go on. They still had work to do, and their father knew it. The crumpled paper fell out as if a sign from the afterlife, landing on the table between the boys. Sam stared down at the table with empty eyes. Dean was definitely going to have to be the strong one from now on. Not that it would be any different than before. Before they found him.

With hesitant, shaky fingers, Dean picks up the note, immediately recognizing his father's writing.

_Boys,__  
__You still have work to do. There are still people who need help. Don't give up on what you know is right. I'm still with you. It's time to go back, Dean. Back to the place we could never get through in the past. __  
__The Black Parade.___

That was all. John Winchester had never been a man of many words, but Dean was at least hoping for something a little more personal. This was just so...non-descript. He was surprised when Sam took the note from him and read it himself.

"The Black Parade? What the hell is that?" His voice sounded almost like it did before. The only difference was the shaky note. No one else would have noticed. Maybe they could move on more easily than Dean originally thought.

"I don't really remember it. When you were young, Dad and I would leave you with Pastor Jim on the anniversary of Mom's death. Dad thought you were too young to know what happened. Not to mention, it wouldn't have been easy to explain it to a toddler. Every year we'd go someplace different. It wasn't like we'd go on vacation, or somewhere with significant meaning. At least not to anyone else. Each place we meant was a step in learning about evil in the world and how to fight it. Preparing us for the final hunt and showdown with the demon. 

When I was seven, we went to Massachusetts. Each year, they allow one day in the fall for those who practice witchcraft to hold public ceremonies and stuff. They walk through town, in long black robes, all traditional and stuff. It's weird. These are the people who can be really involved with the demon we're after. Dad always suspected they were. Now he wants us to go back, which probably means that something's going down."

Sam looked at him as though he'd suddenly exploded an eyeball or something. "So Dad wants us to go after a bunch of wackos who think they have a connection to the dark side? You're fucking kidding me," he sighs, eyes rolling like a professional angst-ridden teen. Somedays Sam seemed as though he hadn't aged past seventeen.

"Dad knows what he's talking about, Sam. And these people aren't just wackos. We're talking about people who are deep into this shit. It's the best place for a demon to infiltrate."

"So we have to be there when?" Sam sounds tired now, and Dean wonders if he's up to it.

"November 2. Next week."


End file.
